


(You'll Never Feel So) Helpless

by buffydyke



Series: From Eden [2]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M, another fluffy kid fic fml, brief mentions of abuse but it's in passing, it's presented in a recollection from adam, so nothing triggering really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 08:06:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6746089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buffydyke/pseuds/buffydyke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam comes home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(You'll Never Feel So) Helpless

**Author's Note:**

> Prepare yourself for ultimate fluff. 
> 
> Remember when I said I was in love with this verse? Yeah. I am.
> 
> This is lightly based on the [Hamilton song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=30N4rPZuUMc) because honestly the line "As long as I'm alive Eliza I swear to God you'll never feel so helpless" is 100% Adam and Ronan @ each other. 
> 
> Also: if you guys ever want to send me fluffy prompt ideas, I'd gladly give a shot at writing them! It's looking like I'll updating this frequently, so any requests of what you want to see these guys experience will be taken into account :> All I ask is no angst bc this verse is my escape from all my life's angst lmao
> 
> Catch me on [Tumblr](http://lesbuffy.tumblr.com/)! :^)

Every morning, Adam Parrish got up at 5:30 A.M.

Some mornings were easier than others. There were times when he could pull himself out of bed with a fervent energy, poised and ready for the day ahead of him. He’d dress in his best tailored suit, grab a quick cup of coffee, and join the twenty minute traffic surge to the law firm he’d signed himself over to. There, from behind the wheel of his car, he’d watch the sun rise over Washington, D.C. Some mornings, even when the drive seemed to stretch on endlessly and the sun took an eternity to peek its way over the skyline, Adam could keep his mind from wandering. 

Other times, though, Adam found himself longing for Henrietta. 

There was a point years ago when Adam wouldn’t have believed that statement. He would have scoffed at it, branded it as a feeling that Adam Parrish would never have experienced. For so long, Henrietta had held nothing for him. A dead end. It served as constant reminder of what he had come from and what he would never be. He’d been born from dirt, and he’d die in that very same dirt in that muggy Virginia town just like his father before him.

That was his old life. Those were the days before Henrietta had given him a future--a life to look forward to. A life that Adam had forged for himself and could share with the person he loved. Now, the thought of that little Virginia town made his heart ache. Every sunrise, every tug Cabeswater made at his senses, every thought of his new family that crept its way into his mind. Some mornings, Adam Parrish found himself longing for home. 

Four hours felt like an eternity away.

There would be a day, Adam told himself, when Ronan could come with him. Logically, Adam knew that would never happen--Ronan hated D.C. and all it stood for. He’d do it for Adam--Adam himself knew that--but leaving the farm for more than a few days at a time would never make Ronan happy.

Still, Adam liked to dream. He liked to imagine a future where they wouldn’t have to be apart for so long--one where Adam could transfer his work to Henrietta or Ronan could come to D.C. It wouldn’t be so bad, Adam told himself. Ronan could spend a few weeks with him in D.C. every now and then while Adam worked, and then they could make the journey back to their safe haven--the series of barns tucked away behind clumps of trees and thickets.

Adam knew how impractical the wish was--their daughter was so young. There was no way she could handle a four hour car ride, and even less of a chance that she’d be okay in a strange place for so long. Even if she could and would, Adam wasn’t sure he’d want to put her through that. Fay deserved to have permanent home to grow up in; one where she felt safe and secure. If nothing else, that’s what he wanted for his daughter: For her to feel safe.

Currently, Adam’s entire life was dedicated to helping other kids feel safe as well. There was a time when he had wondered how many other _Adams_ were out there hiding in plain sight. He had wondered how many other kids were forced cover their cuts and bruises and pretend that their homes weren’t toxic. He wondered how many kids had to convince themselves that this was okay.

Eventually, it became something that Adam couldn’t just sit around and think about. Now, four days a week, he sat behind a desk in the law firm’s office and vigorously filled out paperwork to get kids out of bad situations. Four days a week, he worked to help all the other _Adams_ so they wouldn’t have to hide anymore.

He was making a difference. He was making his own mark on the world. Adam knew Ronan was proud of him. And one day, he told himself, their daughter would be too. He kept their pictures at his desk--ones of Ronan, Fay, and Opal--to remind himself of it. He was doing this for them.

That didn’t keep him from missing them.

Every night after he had finished up at the office, Adam would make the twenty minute journey back to his rental just outside D.C. He’d settle down on the bed or the couch, pull out his phone, and wait. Despite Ronan Lynch’s disdain for phones, he never missed a FaceTime call. Adam suspected he’d set it to its own special ringtone. 

When Ronan answered, he was sitting on the old couch in the Barns. It was already eleven--Adam had taken extra time to finish up the paperwork for a case--but Ronan was more than wide awake. Even more so: he had Fay propped gently up in his lap. 

Ronan at kept both himself and Fay up so Adam could see them. The knowledge made Adam’s heart ache.

Seeing his baby girl was the highlight of every one of Adam Parrish’s waking hours. At four months old, Fay was already getting better at holding her head in place, but Ronan still held protectively onto her. He’d set the phone against a something--a pillow, probably--a short distance away so Adam could see both of them. With that sentiment, the ache in Adam’s heart returned.

Despite this, the first thing found himself saying was “What’s that noise?”

Ronan, of course, obliged with an answer. “Opal.”

Adam wasn’t surprised. The little hoofed girl was always testing her stomach’s boundaries. Currently, as it sounded, her current fixation was on plastic. 

Still, it made him grin.

“Tell me about life on the farm.”

Ronan shrugged. The action made Fay’s big blue eyes dart up to him. “We laid out in the fields today. She was really interested in everything. A grasshopper jumped up on my chest with her and she lost her shit.”

Adam raised a brow.

“No, man. Not crying. _Laughing._ She was happy,” he allowed a smile to twinge at his lips. “I think I’ll take her out to the forest eventually. When she’s older.”

By “the forest”, Adam knew he meant Cabeswater. He knew she’d love it. If she was anything like the two of them--and she was already showing signs that she truly was--she’d be mesmerized by it. She fall in love with every part of it, every thread of magic weaved through its roots and creatures.

She’d love Cabeswater. It was a part of her. 

Adam’s thoughts were once again broken by Ronan. “Also: We have sheep now.”

A grin spread over his face. “ _Sheep?_ ”

Ronan’s hand had moved to smooth the top of Fay’s head. A few curls had already begun to dust over it. “Yeah, man. _Dream_ sheep. I should put ‘em back, though. They’re furry bastards.”

“Wooly.”

“Shut up.”

Adam smirked. For a moment, he allowed his eyes to flutter shut. If he willed himself hard enough, he could imagine that he was there with them. With Ronan. Fay. Opal. Hell, even the bastard dream sheep. Slowly, he let out a breath. “I’m coming home tomorrow.”

Ronan’s reply came after a moment; he was taking this in. “Good. She’s been asking for you.”

Adam lifted a brow. “I think you’re reading too much into whatever noises she’s making.”

Ronan shook his head. “Nuh-uh. Not with words,” he tapped gently at the side of her head, at the little patch of skin just above her chubby cheek. Her eyes darted to where Ronan’s finger had been. “With her eyes.”

Adam rolled his eyes. “Shut up,” he said, but there was no malice behind it. “You just can’t admit that you miss me.”

“You’re right,” Ronan said, a smirk teasing at his lips. It had been so long since Adam had gotten to kiss one of those smug looks off his face. “I can’t.”

Adam couldn’t stifle his grin. No matter how hard it was being away, he was so in love with this family he had created. And even more in love with the family they had created together. “I’ll leave after work tomorrow. We just wrapped up a case, so I’m taking an early day. You’ll be seeing me soon, Lynch.”

There was that smirk again. Adam wasn’t sure if it ever left Ronan these days. “Can’t wait.” 

Adam didn’t want to hang up. Still, he needed sleep. No matter how long he had stayed that day, he would still have 5:30 A.M. to answer to in the morning. He wished he could stay with them all night--that they could just fall asleep together like this. It would make it so much easier.

But they couldn’t, so Adam would have to leave them once again.

“I love you.”

Ronan didn’t hesitate. “Always.”

Adam hung up.

.....·• •·.... 

The drive home was always hard.

It always felt that time drug on forever. The more Adam wanted to get home, the more time it took. Every stoplight seemed to stretch out longer than the last, and all the while the ache and yearning took root and grew deeper in his chest. These were the times when Adam couldn’t keep his mind busy--couldn’t keep it from wandering. It would always find its way back to the same lingering thought.

He missed his family. 

It was late when he arrived. The long, twisting road that led to the Barns seemed to stretch on for miles. The hollow of trees was a guiding path leading Adam home. Even in the dark, Adam could clearly picture them--their spindling branches and creeping roots. The trees surrounding the Barns had the same aura of its inhabitants--in their own way, they were utterly and hauntingly beautiful. Though the gaps in the treeline, Adam thought he could see the ghostly white forms of sheep moving through the fields.

He pulled in beside Ronan’s BMW. Adam had finally upgraded to a full Toyota--the old Hondayota now sat as a relic in one of the fields. Despite Adam’s suggestions, he didn’t think Ronan would ever get rid of it. He loved anything with memories attached to it, even a hideous old car.

Adam took care to keep quiet. It was only half past eight, but the sleeping schedule of the Barns’ inhabitants were sporadic. It was entirely plausible that they could all be sleeping.

Sure enough, Adam found Ronan lying on the couch, deep in slumber. 

It was a beautiful scene, really. One of Ronan’s arms was thrown behind his head, popping it up. There wasn’t the usual crease between his brow--for once, he looked peaceful. Adam wondered if he was dreaming. Opal, on the other hand, was curled at his feet. Despite how it looked, she found this to be the most comfortable sleeping place--she always wanted to be close to Ronan. While her immediate choice may have been Ronan’s chest, that was occupied by someone else.

There, lying against her father’s chest, was Fay. She had a stretch of Ronan’s black muscle shirt curled in her fist, her face twitching and contorting ever so often in her sleep. Adam wondered if she was dreaming, too.

Careful not to wake them, Adam settled himself on the couch opposite the trio. He could wait, even if it took all night. He was content just watching them--how Ronan’s chest moved peacefully in his sleep, how Opal had curled herself into a tight little ball. How Fay, tiny little Fay, looked so utterly safe. So wholly and completely loved.

He’d have to lecture Ronan about this, eventually; how it wasn’t good for her to sleep with him every night. At this rate, she’d never be able to sleep on her own. Adam couldn’t remember the last time Ronan had let her fall asleep in her actual crib--when slumber came to her, it was always with him. If she spent any time in it at all, she was already asleep when Ronan put her down. He’d have to start getting Ronan to let go a little. Of course, Adam knew Ronan wouldn’t listen to his advice, and there really wasn’t any way he could enforce it when he wasn’t there. 

_When he wasn’t there._

The thought made Adam’s chest ache.

He was so glad to finally be home. 

As if on cue, Fay began stirring. She was beginning to teethe, so she was much more restless than usual as of late. That was saying something, considering she hadn’t necessarily been the calmest baby from the beginning. She let out the tiniest of cries--an agitated whimper. 

It was enough to bring Ronan out of his dreams.

He blinked himself awake. In a sleepy haze, his hand moved protectively over the baby--a reassurance that he was there. As he shifted himself to sit up, he noticed Adam watching.

“Hey,” he said. He now sat upright, the baby clutched tightly to his chest. Opal’s head lifted--she glared at Ronan in annoyance. “You’re home.”

“Yeah,” Adam said. He wasn’t sure how long he had been home--time seemed to stop in the Barns. Hours seemed to pass in a matter of minutes. None of this mattered to Fay, though. Regardless of how much time had passed, she was still crying. Almost on an instinct, Adam held his arms out. “Here. Give her to me.”

Ronan hesitated for a moment. Adam knew deep down that this was just Ronan’s protectiveness kicking in--he hated to leave his baby for any period of time, even if it was just by letting someone else hold her. When her cries grew louder, though, he resolved his inner turmoil, handing her over to Adam. “She’s probably hungry. I got it.”

As Ronan went to busy himself in the kitchen--Opal following close behind--, Adam clutched Fay in his arms. She was still fussing and squirming around in frustration, but the sight of Adam helped calm her at least a little. That was a relief in itself--there were often times that Adam feared she’d forget his face. That he’d be gone too long and come home a stranger. 

That was the worst thing he could imagine; being a stranger in his daughter’s life. It was true that he wasn’t an expert on being a parent, but he was getting better. It came naturally to Ronan; he’d been the first to calm her after she came into the world, the first to figure out the reasoning behind every time she cried, the first to reach out to his family to come see her.

Adam’s parents didn’t even know they had a grandchild.

He had toyed with the idea of telling them. A part of him still yearned for a civil relationship with his parents. Deep down, though, Adam knew it was a useless hope. Before he left for college, Adam’s father hadn’t shown any interest in bettering their relationship. The fact that he now had a granddaughter wouldn’t make a difference.

That was probably why, Adam figured, he was having such a hard time learning to be a parent. _It’s not like I had great role models_ , Adam had said at first. But there was more reasoning behind it, really. The fact was that, even in how tiny she was, Fay terrified him in the beginning. She was so small, so utterly fragile. When he’d first heard her cry, that deafening wail that had greeted them on the night Ronan pulled her from his dreams, it shattered his heart. He’d devote every waking moment of his life to keep her from crying ever again.

But no matter how much time Adam devoted to helping other kids--kids that were like him--, there was always a fear that he hadn’t escaped his old life. That he’d become just like his father. Deep down, Adam knew that fear had no plausible foundation.

Looking down at his daughter, Adam knew there was no way that would ever happen.

_I don’t see how everyone doesn't fall in love with someone like you._

Ronan had returned from the kitchen, now clutching a bottle. Opal tottered after him, of course, gnawing on something that appeared to be a wooden spoon. Ronan always made sure both of his girls were taken care of, even if Opal’s needs were a bit more . . . outlandish. 

As Ronan handed the bottle off to him, Adam prepared to perform his duties as a father. It didn’t take any coaxing on his or her parts--Fay took it gratefully and hungrily between her lips.

“That’s domestic,” Ronan snarked. He took a seat on the edge of the couch near the two.

Coming from Ronan Lynch, arguably the most domestic man this side of Henrietta, it was laughable.

“You’re one to talk,” Adam said. Really, though, he didn’t mind being domestic. Even watching Fay doing something as simple as having her bottle tugged at his heart. He had missed so many moments like this.

Tentatively, he began. “I’ve been thinking.”

“This better not be a divorce speech, Parrish.”

Adam rolled his eyes. He wouldn’t dignify that with a response. “I’ve been _thinking_ ,” he continued, “that I don’t want to miss this anymore.” 

Ronan raised a brow. “What do you mean by that?”

“Look,” Adam began. He’d practiced this speech during the drive home--it suddenly seemed to have sounded much better when it had only been with himself. “The law firm has a branch near here. I think I could get transferred. I could still work on the same cases and manage the same kids, but it’s a lot closer. It’s only about an hour away, so I could home every night if I wanted to.”

_And I want to._

Ronan sat for a moment, thinking this over, his brows knitted in concentration. Adam had prepared himself for any outcome of this--Ronan had always pushed for Adam’s autonomy. Somehow, Adam knew he would find a way to interpret this as a loss of that. “Part of our agreement when we got into this,” he began, “was that you wouldn’t make decisions based on me.”

Adam didn’t falter. He’d prepared himself for this. Ronan Lynch was a stubborn, insufferable man. “This isn’t just about you, Ronan. I’ve thought it over. It’s what I want.” 

Ronan shook his head. “No. Look, man: You’ll do this and then you’ll regret it,” he stood. He was now pacing around the space in front of the couch--the whole conversation obviously bothered him. “I don’t want you throwing away what you’ve worked for just because you feel like I can’t handle it. That’s not fair to you.”

_It’s not fair to our daughter._

“What _do_ you want, Ronan?”

Ronan stopped. With his tensed shoulders, a pensive expression plastered across his face, he looked helplessly like a more rugged version of his younger self. “I want you to be happy with the decisions you make.”

At that, Adam looked right at him, meeting his eyes. “I already am.”

Ronan let out a sigh. “Don’t try to be fucking poetic. Just promise me you’ll choose what’s best for you.”

_I chose you, asshole._

“I promise,” Adam said. Fay had nearly finished her bottle--her eyelids were lulling in the way that signalled exhaustion. Ronan always kept her so busy during the day; Adam was surprised she didn’t sleep every opportunity she got. “Let’s go to bed. I’ve been sleeping alone for the past week.” 

At that, Ronan gave a tiny smirk. “I haven’t.” 

Adam rolled his eyes, prying himself up. The bottle fell to the couch--he’d have to remember to wash it in the morning. Right now, his main priority was being with his family.

This beautiful family. This family that Adam Parrish had fought so hard for--the type of family that Adam never thought he’d be able to have.

Here, with this man and this tiny baby in his arms, Adam Parrish had never felt more at home.

_I swear to God you’ll never feel so helpless._


End file.
